


A Taste of the Tracy

by MissSquidTracy



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Angst and Humor, Comedy, Comfort Reading, Drama Llama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Female Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29765316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSquidTracy/pseuds/MissSquidTracy
Summary: Kayo and Lady Penelope decide to help the boys dust off their dating skills. Naturally, nothing goes right.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Shave Me The Embarrassment

_Author’s Note:_

_The original Thunderbirds formed a significant part of my life when I was younger. I distinctly remember crushing on the Tracy boys while all of my primary school cohorts crushed on real boys. I adore all of the brothers, but my favourite has and will always be Gordon. I am a lifelong member of the Gordon Groupies and my loyalty to him runs deep._

_Interestingly, after almost two decades of being absent from my life, I discovered the Thunderbirds Are Go remake three days before my country went into lockdown. As the world plunged into uncertainty, I answered the call of my childhood and took the hand I could see iR offering._

_I’ve been a consumer of fan fiction for well over a decade. I’ve been part of numerous fandoms and have enjoyed all of them, however none resonated with me enough to inspire me to write myself. As soon as TAG entered my life, that changed. I’ve now discovered a hobby I never would have discovered otherwise, and for that, I am grateful._

_In light of the above, I would like to dedicate the very first story I have ever written to the Tracy Brothers, but particularly, to my boy Gordon._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thunderbirds or Thunderbirds Are Go, nor am I making any kind of financial profit from publishing this story. All original characters are my own. If I did own the series, it would never end and a certain aquanaut would be the star of every episode. _

**-x-**

**Chapter 1.**

It was a rite of passage.

A ritual synonymous with manhood.

An act that signified the transition from child to adult.

The very definition of masculinity.

Alan Tracy set his jaw and focussed his attention on the reflection staring back at him.

“The time has come, my friend.”

**-x-**

It was a beautiful, sunny day on Tracy Island. Nothing hugely out of the ordinary, since the island enjoyed good weather almost year round, but clear skies and warm temperatures were always appreciated by International Rescue. If nothing else, they made speedy launches significantly easier.

Virgil would never admit it, but he’d clipped some of the rocks encircling the island a couple of times when he’d been forced to launch in inclement weather.

“Anyone thirsty?” Scott asked, rising from his seat at the kitchen table and heading towards the fridge, “I’m getting a refill.”

He, Virgil, John, and Gordon were enjoying some rare downtime in and around the house. Their communication system was live and they were armed and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice, however EOS had reported that there were no current or imminent emergencies that either local authorities or the GDF couldn’t handle.

“I’ll have one!” Gordon sang, lifting his head from its horizontal position on one of the sun loungers, “Pineapple juice on ice with an umbrella please!”

Scott snorted before grabbing the carton and tossing it at the aquanaut, “Sure thing, squid. The ice is in the freezer, and the umbrellas are in a shop on the mainland.”

Gordon sulked for all of a second before popping the cap, tilting his head back, and taking several long, loud slurps. After draining the carton he let out a burp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and tossed the container towards the bin, missing by a country mile.

“You gunna pick that up?” Virgil asked, not bothering to look up from the book that was occupying his attention.

“Eh, maybe later,” Gordon replied, stretching back out along the lounger with another belch.

John, who was sitting cross legged on the floor and sorting through some photo albums, glanced up with a look of distaste, “How you expect to win Lady Penelope’s affections with those manners is beyond me.”

“I’m authentically rustic,” the aquanaut swanked, “Opposites attract, remember? She’d be lucky to have me and all of my Tracy charm on her arm.”

John sighed and shuffled some loose photos in his hands, “Technically, there is no scientific evidence to reinforce the concept that we are attracted to people who possess opposing personality traits to our own.”

Scott snorted over a mouthful of iced tea, “Don’t be a buzzkill. You need all the help you can get.”

“Because you’re such a Casanova yourself,” Virgil butted in, a sly smile infecting his face, “Seriously Scott, don’t counsel if you haven’t got the qualifications to do so.”

Scott’s blue eyes narrowed to slits. Putting his glass down, he knelt next to John and began ferreting through the photos strewn about the floor. After several seconds of searching, he picked one up and turned it around for the room to see.

It was a slightly grainy photo of Virgil as a toddler. The second brother was sat astride a small pony their grandmother was leading by a rope and clad in nothing but a nappy and a straw hat. Gordon twisted his head to get a better look and barked a laugh. Even John’s face twitched in humour.

“Careful, Virg,” Scott taunted, “One wrong move, and this baby hits the internet. Can you imagine what people’s first thoughts would be if they saw you coming to rescue them after seeing this photo?”

“Thunderturd Two, at your service!” Gordon quipped with a salute, doubling over at the hilarity of his own joke.

Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes, “Hilarious, Scott. I should point out that there are a fair few in there of you not looking your best either. An eye for an eye, I say. Weren’t you the one who was sick on mum’s best rug after you ate that old slice of cake you found in the trash? And then blamed it on Gordon when she confronted you?”  
  


“Hey!” Gordon’s head snapped up accusingly, “I had to miss swim lessons for a week because of that! **And** I wasn’t allowed to go to Grandpa’s birthday party!”

Scott shrugged, “Say what you like, that cake was so worth it. White chocolate icing and fudge sauce in the centre…if anything, the mould just made it tastier.”

John visibly gagged, “You’re all so gross. I fail to see how I’m related to any of you. I must have been adopted.”

“It all looks the same in your stomach, bro,” Gordon informed, “I’m with Scott. I often dig through the trash if I suspect good food has been thrown away prematurely. Rather that than Grandma’s cooking...”

“Baking really isn’t a hard skill to master,” John retorted, disgust evident on his face, “It’s mainly ingredient quantities and timing. The rest is purely cosmetic.”

Virgil raised a suggestive eyebrow, “Think you could give Casanova Scott a run for his money, John? I hear girls like guys that can cook.”

The redhead shrugged and returned his attention to organising the photos before him, “I have better things to do with my time. Like ironing my underwear and folding my socks, for instance.”

A tongue click signalled Virgil’s entry into the fray, however his attempt at intervention ground to a halt when Alan made an unannounced appearance at the top of the stairs.

“There you are!” Scott exclaimed, “You’ve been in that bathroom for hours. We were starting to place bets on whether you’d eaten one of Grandma’s cookies again. There’s laxatives and antacid in the medicine cupboard if you need them.”

The eldest brother’s rambling trailed off awkwardly as he and the others took note of the wary expression on Alan’s face. Slowly, the youngest began his descent down the staircase, his gaze flitting accusingly between his four brothers.

“You okay, little buddy?” Gordon asked, taking note of the defensive aura Alan was emanating, “Did you use my shampoo or something? Because, y’know, it’s fine if you did, but that stuff’s expensive, and-“

It wasn’t until Alan shuffled closer that his brothers got to see what the actual problem was. Copious nicks and cuts adorned his face, some of which were stuck with bits of bloody tissue. They were everywhere, but predominantly on his chin, jaw, and cheek.

There was a moment of utter silence, broken only by the soft crashing of the waves outside.

Scott was the first to break rank. A smile twitched at his lips as he sucked in a shaky breath, “Alan, aren’t you a little young to be shaving?”

A snort of laughter bubbled up Virgil’s diaphragm before he could stop it. John coughed and politely averted his eyes.

Gordon had no time for such politeness. One look at the swabs of tissue covering Alan’s face and the aquanaut was engulfed by a fit of side-splitting laughter, “Oh, Al! You never disappoint!”

The youngest Tracy’s face darkened to the same shade as Thunderbird Three as he swatted Scott’s wandering fingers away, “I’m fine! My hand was just a bit shaky, that’s all.”

A hum of acknowledgement was offered by Virgil in lieu of a verbal response. Both he and Scott knew from experience that riling Alan when he was in a mood would only make the situation stickier.

“What made you decide that today was the day?” Scott asked, failing miserably in the ‘keeping a straight face’ department.

Alan shrugged and let his shoulders slump in defeat, “I’ve nothing else to do. No rescues have come through, I’ve finished all of my homework, and Kayo’s off in Argentina until Tuesday.”

A rare smile made itself at home on John’s face, “You could have come down here and hung out with us. I’ve found some adorable photos of you.”

The redhead held up a polaroid of Alan sat in the bath as a baby, his face frozen in joy as he played with a plastic replica of Thunderbird One. On cue, Scott and Virgil cooed adoringly. Over on the lounger, Gordon was still a lost cause

“John!” Alan whined, snatching the photo and stuffing it in his pocket, “Stop it! I get it, I messed up. No need to rub salt in the wound.”

“Oh Allie, it’s only because we love you!” Scott simpered, wrapping his littlest brother in a bear hug. Spying an opportunity to push Alan’s buttons, Gordon and Virgil invited themselves in as well. Even John succumbed to his sense of humour and wrapped his arms around what little of Alan he could see.

“Guys!” the youngest wailed, wriggling furiously in an attempt to free himself from the epicentre of the embrace, “Get. Off!”

“I still remember the way you used to sprint around the house naked whenever we tried to change your diaper,” Virgil fondly reminisced, “Hey John, remember that time Scott had to corner him in the pantry?”

“Or the time he became obsessed with Buzz Lightyear, and then demanded that everything in his room be Buzz themed?” Scott clucked, “In fact, I reckon I saw some of your old Buzz underwear in the laundry the other day. Don’t tell me it still fits you?”

“I remember when he used to fart in the bath,” Gordon exclaimed with a grin that almost split his cheeks, “One of the perks of us sharing bath time together, right ‘lil bro?” 

“Enough!” Alan shrieked, doing an awkward full-bodied dance in an effort to shake himself free from the grip of his brothers. In the end, he used his height to his advantage and dropped to his knees before crawling out of the infernal embrace.

“Oh c’mon, Al!” Virgil tittered, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder, “We’re just having a bit of fun.”

“Well it’s not funny!” Alan hissed, scrubbing at his face when one of the cuts on his jaw started to itch. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying and failing to find the right words to articulate his anger. In the end, he settled for slapping both hands over his face.

Scott quirked a brow and leant towards his immediate brother, “Is this where we’re supposed to blame everything on hormones?”

Despite the whispered tone of Scott’s comment, it was enough for Alan to recommence his rant, “Oh, sure! Go ahead, I’m sure you’ll all be much better people once you’ve finished sharpening your claws on me. I tried to shave. I messed up. Now, I’m going to have to live through at least three, possibly four, days of teasing from all of you. How do you think that makes me feel? Why do you think I took so long in the bathroom? It was because I didn’t want to come downstairs and endure whatever brand of ridicule you’d throw at me! Like you’re all so perfect yourselves.”

Nostrils flared, Alan paused for breath, his delicate frame fizzing with frustration as he drew all five foot and two (or was it three?) inches of himself up.

As usual, Virgil was the first to respond, “We hear what you’re saying, Alan, but you’ve blown all of this way out of context. It was just a joke.”

Alan’s eyes narrowed until they were mere chinks, “I’ll tell you what’s a joke. You all thinking that you’re so much better than me. I’ve seen the way Scott preens in front of the mirror when he thinks nobody’s looking, and Gordon’s cupboard in the bathroom with every expensive scrub, shower gel and shampoo known to man. I’ve seen Virgil working on his tan down at the beach when he’s ‘supposedly’ been in the hangers doing maintenance on Two. Granted, I’ve not seen John do anything yet, but considering he spends half his life in orbit, I’m sure Five has its fair share of secrets.”

Gordon gave a supercilious shrug and flicked some imaginary dust off his shoulder, “It’s perfectly natural for you to feel threatened. I’ll freely admit that I’ve set the bar pretty high. All I can say is, don’t lose sleep over it. If you’re serious about upping your game, you’re welcome to do laps with me in the pool every morning. I’m sure Kayo would appreciate you having more than just invisible muscle.”

The mere mention of their female colleague’s name was enough to send the section of Alan’s brain labelled ‘pride’ scurrying for cover. Unfortunately, Gordon had a nose that could sniff out embarrassment like a spaniel in a drugs raid.

“Whaddya say, Virg?” the aquanaut asked, turning towards his brother with a lazy smile, “Fifty bucks says that Kayo would totally accept if I hypothetically asked her out.”

Virgil snorted, “Fifty? I’ll hypothetically up that to a hundred. No, two hundred. You’re definitely not her type.”

Brothers two and four were pushed aside as Scott waded in, “That’s adorable, Gordon, but I think you’ll find that she’s much too mature for you.”

“What’s this about Kayo?” John cut in, his left eyebrow arched in confusion, “I thought it was just Alan who had a thing for her?”

Scott and Gordon paused in their rapidly escalating exchange to shoot disbelieving stares in the redhead’s direction. Even Virgil couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice, “John, come off it. She’s beautiful, confident, and damn good at her job. If you think Alan is the only one who secretly appreciates her, you’re a lot dumber than your paper qualifications say.”

“Ha!” Gordon shivered with glee, “Can you imagine it? John and Kayo, out on a date. What kind of venue do you think he’d chose? Probably somewhere historic and sophisticated, like a vomitorium.”

The cackles that burst out of Scott and Virgil had Alan wishing he could blast into orbit independent of Thunderbird Three. Before the youngest could conjure up a retort sharp enough to slice through his brother’s dialogue, a delicate cough sounded behind him.

Shameless embarrassment coursed through Alan as he chanced a glance over his shoulder and locked gazes with the akimbo armed source of said cough.

Kayo.

“Do you reckon she’s a hand holder?” Gordon ploughed on, unaware that the subject of his discussion was standing mere feet away, “I mean, she might be, but I reckon she’s more of a ‘don’t kiss and tell’ type.”

Virgil was gearing himself up to reply (and a good one, at that), however was forced to shut his trap when he too caught sight of Kayo’s silhouette. All the blood seemed to drain from the engineer’s face as he desperately attempted to shut Gordon up without making direct eye contact. In the background, Scott tried fruitlessly to camouflage himself against the fridge, while John channelled his inner deer.

Much to everyone’s horror, Gordon continued to babble, his tirade only screeching to a halt when his brown eyes (eventually) locked onto Kayo’s green ones.

Thunderbird Shadow’s pilot felt delight wash over her as she considered the multitude of opportunities her eavesdropping had just dumped at her feet. So many opportunities…

“Oh please, **do** carry on.”


	2. The Fail of the Tracy

**Chapter 2.**

Kayo loved being a woman.

She loved being the only woman amongst five guys even more.

The looks of sheer terror adorning the normally stoic and relaxed faces of the rather cocky Tracy squad was nothing short of hilarious. She’d gotten them all neatly lined up on the sofa, and was pacing in front of them like the badass drill sergeant she knew she was.

Scott was doing the best job of keeping his agitation in check, however the way his blue eyes tracked Kayo’s every move betrayed the true depth of his discomfort.

Gordon was feigning indifference and had one arm slung across the back of the sofa. Kayo admired his bravado, but knew the aquanaut was no doubt soiling himself inside the safe confines of his mind.

John looked completely panicked and was doing a commendable job at camouflaging himself against the orange cushion he was propped against.

Virgil was mimicking Gordon and also had an arm thrown across the back of the sofa, although his flippant display of machoism seemed slightly less forced. He glanced over at Scott and raised an eyebrow when Kayo paced in front of them for what had to be the fourth time. Unfortunately, the eldest brother’s attention was locked onto their female colleague, and Virgil’s disbelieving expression went ignored.

Alan meanwhile, was the only one who looked vaguely in control of himself. Sat next to Virgil with his arms crossed, the youngest was glaring at his brothers with an expression that screamed ‘serves you right’. Unfortunately, what little confidence he’d cobbled together vanished when Kayo allowed her gaze to linger on him for a second longer than was necessary.

They were busted.

And they knew it.

“In light of what I just overheard,” Kayo began, smiling inwardly when five pairs of eyes gave her their undivided attention, “I think we should investigate this rather delicate matter a bit further. I’ve never been one for great displays of emotion, however I do consider you guys family, and I also appreciate that I live under your roof. Granted, I prefer to keep most things that don’t concern work private, however I think it’s only fair that we explore this particular topic more, since it’s obviously of great interest to you all.”

On the sofa, five sets of palms began to sweat.

“I don’t currently have a partner,” Kayo confessed, shrugging offhandedly, “I don’t really see the appeal of dating, but moreover, I hardly have time for it with work. I know for a fact the same largely applies to all of you.”

A few tentative nods were offered.

“However,” Kayo continued, “I have to agree with Alan on one thing. For all the bravado and swagger you guys give off, I can’t actually remember the last time any of you had a date. For a group of men as ‘macho’ as yourselves, I can’t think of why this would, or should, be the case.”

A black brow went skyward asVirgil huffed in indignation, “We’ve never made claims of being ‘macho’, Kayo.”

“Quite the contrary,” Scott chipped in, “I think we’re fairly humble.”

Over on Virgil’s left, Alan snorted, “Oh please! All you ever do is yak on about who’s tallest, who’s strongest, who’s bravest, who has the best ass…I swear, everything in this house is a competition. And you’re all quite safe, because guess who always loses?” Alan stabbed a finger at himself, “Me!”

Kayo silenced the youngest Tracy with a look, before returning her attention to the others, “Virgil, I happen to know you always check your hair before exiting Thunderbird Two for a rescue.”

The engineer hesitated before harrumphing and mumbling something about ‘International Rescue’ and ‘standards’.

Green eyes flicked to the next Tracy on the conveyor belt, “John, is it true you tap into the telemetry from Scott’s comm whenever he rescues a woman so that you can pick up lines?”

The redhead’s face went the same colour as his hair. Under Scott’s quizzical gaze, he caved and placed the blame squarely on EOS.

Kayo tsked her tongue before transferring her crosshairs onto the sniggering Gordon, “And you, fishboy. Lady Penelope. Need I say more?”

The aquanaut gave an epic snort of disbelief, however couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact, “Ha! Pull the other one!”

By the time Kayo swivelled her gaze to Scott, the eldest Tracy had already deployed his defences, “Before you say it, I do **not** flirt with the women I rescue!”

Years of training enabled Kayo to feign ignorance like a pro, “I know. That’s why I tossed the phonebook you had stored underneath One’s pilot seat out. I found it when I did a security sweep of the hanger a few weeks ago. I wasn’t even aware they still **made** phonebooks.”

“You’ve been in Thunderbird One without my knowledge?” Scott asked, his voice laced with incredulity.

Kayo treated him to a suspicious squint, “Just doing my job, Scott. Why? What else are you hiding inside that supersonic tin can?”

A silence that doubled as a nonverbal confession (at least in Kayo’s mind) descended over the room.

Down on the sofa, Alan let out a silent puff of relief. It looked as if he’d been overlooked. Again.

“And you, Alan.”

_‘Heh. So much for that.’_

Green met blue for several seconds while Kayo considered the youngest, “You’re just cute.”

Humiliation washed over Alan like a cold gust of wind. **_Cute_**? There was no coming back from **_cute_**.

Something in the room shifted as the youngest Tracy willingly surrendered the stage to his eldest brother, “Alright Kayo, you caught us talking about you behind your back. We weren’t expecting you home for another two days, but granted, we weren’t being respectful or professional. On behalf of myself and my brothers, we apologise for talking about your personal life without your consent. Now, could we please resume what we were doing before you burst through the door?”

Virgil frowned, “Looking at baby photos and laughing at Alan’s shaving attempt?”

Caramel eyes glimmered with humour as Gordon twisted to get another eyeful of his brother’s face, “Ah, thanks Virg! I’d completely forgotten about that!”

Alan felt his cheeks heat up. In the confusion caused by Kayo’s sudden reappearance, he’d completely forgotten about the state of his jawline. No wonder she’d called him cute. He probably looked like a Dalmatian.

In an attempt to regain some of the dignity Kayo had robbed him of, Scott cleared his throat and strode off towards the kitchen with an air of finality. He made it all of two steps before their Head of Security expertly intercepted him and herded him back towards the sofa.

“Not so fast,” Kayo warned, “You haven’t heard my brilliant plan yet.”

Gordon, who’d been stamping his foot on the floor in silent mirth, abruptly shut up and sat up, “Wait, what? You have a **plan** for us?” 

“That’s it, we’re all gunna die,” Virgil announced, seizing John’s hand and shaking it grimly, “It was a pleasure knowing you, carrot-top.”

The atmospheric shift from earlier intensified when Kayo put a hand on Scott’s shoulder and prodded him back in the direction of his brothers, “Kayo, what are you up to?”

Shadow’s pilot grinned, before raising her wrist and activating her comm device, “London, do you copy?”

Abeat passed before Lady Penelope’s smiling holographic face materialised, “F.A.B, Kayo. Shall we tell them our plan? Bertie here is practically buzzing with impatience.”

Five masks of terror fell back into place as Kayo nodded.

“Yes, lets.”


	3. The Trepidation of the Tracy

**Chapter 3.**

Virgil wasn’t used to not being in control.

Granted, he didn’t quite have the same authority within the family as Scott, but he was used to having both his viewpoints and actions respected by those around him. He was the calmest under pressure and liked to think of himself as a ‘silent steerer’ of sorts; capable of manipulating situations to his liking without drawing much, if any, attention to himself.

He was most definitely **not** in control of wherever the current situation was headed.

“We’re going to put all your names in a bowl,” Kayo began, scribbling on a scrap piece of paper she’d found, “And pick them out one by one. Whoever has their name drawn has to take me out on a date. Myself and Lady Penelope will be scoring you in five categories: fashion sense, choice of date activity or location, budget, manners, and whether we’d go on a second date with you. Each category will be graded out of five, with a top total score of twenty five. Winner gets bragging rights for a whole year and the cost of the date reimbursed. Are we clear?”

Five faces remained fixed in stupefied disbelief.

“Excellent,” Kayo beamed, grabbing an empty fruit bowl and dropping the names in, “Who’d like to do the honours?”

Gordon’s hand immediately shot into the air.

“No peeking,” Kayo warned as the aquanaut tried to discreetly steal a glance at the piece of paper his fingers had closed around. The other four held their breath as their fish brother unfolded the paper, one hand shielding it from Alan’s prying eyes.

“John.”

There was a collective puff of relief from Scott, Virgil, and Alan, while Gordon flopped back onto the sofa cushions in obvious disappointment.

Brother número tres meanwhile, looked fit to shit himself.

“Alright Space Carrot,” Kayo trilled, returning the bowl to the table, “I’ll meet you by the pool at six o’clock sharp. Where we go and how we get there is entirely up to you. Don’t forget that grading commences as soon as I lay eyes on you. Best of luck!”

Shadow’s pilot gave her orange target a curt nod before turning on her heel and striding out of the lounge. The other four had enough collective intelligence to give her departure fifteen seconds grace before letting loose their reactions.

“Dude! You get to have Kayo as a hypothetical girlfriend for the entire evening!” Gordon gushed, yanking his feet up onto the coach so that he was balanced on his knees, “That’s insane! Make sure you tell us everything that happens, okay? I don’t want to mess up when it’s my turn.”

“What do you think she’ll wear?” Alan asked, dreamily resting his chin on his hands, “Do you think she owns any dresses?”

“Who cares what she wears,” Gordon scoffed, throwing his hands up in disbelief, “She’s **Kayo**! She could got out wearing a trash bag and still look amazing!”  
  


“True,” Alan agreed, staring off into space for a few seconds before leaping up in horror, “Oh man! I just realised I have no decent clothes. What am I going to do when it’s my turn? Ah man! Scott, quick! Grab Thunderbird One. I need to go shopping!”

Without waiting for a reply, Alan tore off in the direction of the hangers, his feet zig-zagging precariously on the hardwood floor as he torpedoed towards his destination.

“Don’t break your neck!” Virgil yelled, not at all surprised when he didn’t receive a response, “I think we ought to focus our attention on the one whose hypothetical date is happening here and now. You alright there, John? You’re looking a bit peaky.”

Scott, who’d been busy remotely locking all of Thunderbird One’s entry hatches, turned to look at the brother he was sitting next to. Peaky was, quite frankly, putting it mildly. John was perfectly motionless, his face devoid of all expression and colour as he stared into space, no doubt wishing he was up in the safety of his orbiting tin can.

“Anyone home?” Scott asked, waving a hand in front of the redhead’s face.

“D’you think we broke him?” Gordon asked, poking his ginger brother experimentally in the shoulder, “Maybe we should turn him off and then back on again?”

Scott ignored the aquanaut and peered closely at John’s face. When in the safety of orbit and the isolation of space, their third brother was virtually unflappable. Calm, collected, and generally pacific in nature, he excelled in the art of soothing casualties, communicating vital information to government authorities, and even conversing with the odd rescuee in Chinese or Spanish.

Unfortunately for John (and all of them, by extension), the very traits that made him such a good communicator and all round nice guy came as part of a package deal with Thunderbird Five, which was currently twenty two thousand miles above their heads.

Slightly concerned that his brother didn’t even seem to be breathing, Scott snapped his fingers in front of John’s spaced-out face. The sudden sound and movement rebooted the redhead enough for his jaw muscles to start working again, “A date? She wants me to take her on a date? A **date**? Oh sweet mamaloosa…I can’t go on a date, Scott. It’ll be like high school all over again. A date? You’ve got to get me out of this! I’m not built for dating. What will she expect of me? Do I have to hold her hand? What if people think we’re a real couple? What will we talk about?”

The middle brother’s tirade was cut short when his breath hitched in his throat. Without thinking, he grabbed Scott by the shoulder, his frame shuddering as he began to drag in great gulps of air.

“Hyperventilation,” Scott diagnosed, disengaging John’s iron grip from his shoulder. Leaving the redhead in the capable hands of his immediate brother, the eldest jogged down to the kitchen and began ferreting around in the cupboard next to the automated kitchen module.

“Chill out, John. You heard Kayo, it’s just a little exercise she and Lady P have cooked up to stretch our social muscles. Think of it as a training session, with no serious repercussions or consequences attached. Kayo’s a good one, she’ll look after you,” Virgil assured, patting the redhead’s knee.

John made no indication that he’d even heard Virgil. He continued to breath loudly and erratically, completely oblivious to everything and everyone around him. Predictably, Gordon took this as a cue to shove his nose in.

“Sounds as if he’s going into labour,” the aquanaut observed, glancing up as Scott returned from the kitchen, “You want me to get towels and boiling water?”

“Give it a rest, Gordon,” Scott sighed, kneeling down and offering his distraught brother a paper bag, “Here you go John, deep breaths now.”

Like a turtle surfacing for air, John broke out of his panicked haze just long enough to snatch the paper offering, his face flushing as he began to frantically inflate and deflate the bag. After several minutes of frenzied puffing, the redhead calmed down enough to accept the glass of water and tablets Scott was offering him.

“They’re tranquilisers,” Scott informed as John necked the pills without so much as looking at them, “They’ll take the edge off the worst of the tension. You might feel a bit light-headed, but the worst should have passed long before Kayo comes to find you.”

An epic groan travelled up John’s throat as he flopped back into the sofa and slapped a hand across his eyes, “EOS, open a link with the nearest on-duty psychologist. I need help.”

“Understood,” came the girlish response, followed by a series of soft beeps, “I’ve located one in Wellington who has an emergency slot available at two o’clock. Would you like me to book you in?”

Eager to avoid an unnecessary trip and an even more unnecessary bill, Scott butted in, “Thank you EOS, but we’ve got this.”

EOS gave a harrumph of disapproval, “Answering on behalf of someone who is mentally displaced can be considered a violation of-“

The AI’s rant was cut short by Scott severing the comm link.

“You should just let me go back up to Five,” John slurred miserably, “I’d be happier going back to having sentient AIs and algebraic equations for company anyway.”

Sensing that his brother needed a heart-to-heart, Scott motioned for Virgil to distract Gordon. Within seconds engineer and aquanaut were engaged in a heated battle of Twenty Questions.

“What’s got you so freaked out?” Scott asked, retaking his seat beside the redhead, “It’s just Kayo. You don’t even have to think of it as a date, just think of it as a chance to spend some time with a friend. There’s no need to put any pressure on yourself. Take Thunderbird One, go see a movie, buy some popcorn, and come home before the credits roll. Easy-peasy, cotton breezy.”

John sighed into his hands, “You don’t understand, Scott. In space, I’ve got no direct competition. Any women who I happen to rescue up there don’t exactly have hundreds of guys to compare me against. Most people who have space permits belong to the older demographic, so I’m even more of a rare commodity. Down here, I’m just one of the crowd.”

Scott felt his heart break a little at his brother’s harsh confession, “Go easy on yourself. I’ve received plenty of very positive comments from female rescuees about the person who handled their distress call. You’re probably the best liked member of International Rescue, if you did but know it.”

“But I don’t have any of your, or Virgil’s, or even Gordon’s ‘earthly’ charm,” John continued, using air quotes to make his point, “If I take Kayo up on her challenge, all I’ll do is spend the entire evening obsessively comparing myself against every other guy I see. I’ll get so hung up with my own internal scoring system that I’ll forget everything else and perform terribly. Then, my already non-existent earthbound confidence will become even more non-existent. Seriously Scott, you take my place and go instead. The tranquilisers aren’t agreeing with me anyway.”

A wail of despair sounded from Gordon at his inability to progress beyond question sixteen. Eager to capitalise on any available distractions, John stood up and gingerly made his way towards the stairs, pausing occasionally to hiccup. Scott loyally followed, pushing the door open to his room when they finally got there.

“Lie down and have a rest, but I’m not letting you give up on yourself so easily,” the eldest announced, wrenching John’s wardrobe open and rifling through its contents, “Just got for an hour if you like, but it’s important you don’t run away from this. You won’t be able to stay in space forever, and I don’t want you living in the basement when that day finally comes.”

John snorted and starfished on his bed, groaning when the tranquilisers threatened to make a reappearance.

“Here, wear these,” Scott instructed, grabbing a pair of black jeans and a navy shirt and tossing them onto the bed, “You can’t go wrong with dark colours, plus the navy will work well with your hair. Now, get some rest and I’ll come and wake you an hour before Kayo’s expecting you. Yell if you need anything in the meantime.”

With the authority of a man used to being obeyed, Scott strode towards the door, casting a quick glance over his shoulder as he did so. The tension rolling off his ginger brother was probably enough to give him his own electromagnetic field, but he was no longer giving the vibe of being an immediate flight risk.

Brotherly concern was switched out for confusion when the bedroom door smashed into something midway through Scott’s departure. Instinctively, the eldest Tracy used more force, pushing hard against whatever was causing the unexplained resistance.

“ **Holy halibut!** **My nose**!”

Scott sighed and stuck his head into the opening he’d secured, one eyebrow going skyward when he spied Gordon with his hands welded to his face and blood streaming between his fingers.

“Eavesdropping again?” the eldest asked, shutting the door in a futile attempt to give John some peace.

Gordon glared with all the ferocity of a wilted geranium, “’D’oh I was d’ot! Who do you ‘dink I am?”

“A squid with a bloody nose,” Scott replied, placing both hands on Gordon’s shoulders and steering him in the direction of the bathroom, “Stick your nose in the air. It’ll help slow the bleeding.”

Gordon obeyed, “D’is he ‘dill going du’night?”

“Yes he is,” Scott replied, resisting the urge to laugh at the aquanaut’s nasally tone, “But no interfering. He’s nervous enough as it is.”

A blond head whipped around in mock outrage.

“Me? ‘Inderfere? ‘Dever!”


End file.
